His Paradise
by Thegoblinqueen1998
Summary: Valjean will always be there to catch him. Rating may change. Modern Day AU. of course. slash.
1. The bedridden frenchman

His first sensation was heat.

His next sensation was comfort.

That's when he knew things were wrong. There wasn't supposed to be comfort in Hell.

Javert opened his eyes, unsure of what he might see, but he thought he had a pretty good idea. Of course, his suspicions were immediately confirmed by the sleeping man in the corner, the bed he laid on, the fire in the fireplace, and the clothes he wore. The man stirred, looking towards Javert and stopped short of smiling. Javert pretended not to notice. "Good, you're awake… I wasn't sure that you'd regain consciousness so quickly…"

This remark made his blood boil. He was Inspector Javert, not one of the awful man's charity cases, and he couldn't stand to lie in the bed of a convict, nor could he stand the humiliation of painful retching in front of said convict.

Jean Valjean was over him in a second, holding out the trash can that lay next to his side dresser and rubbing Javert's back soothing, cooing gently words of encouragement and reassurance that he was going to be alright. Dirty water from the Seine erupted from his body, making the whole experience completely miserable for poor Javert. After a moment of hideous dry heaving and splutters of incoherent "shits" and "fucking Seine!" and a mixture of other colorful curses, Valjean tried easing Javert into the pillow again, to which Javert promptly swatted the other man away. "I do not need your help to simply lie down; I am not a fucking crippled!" He barked viciously.

Valjean held up his hands in defeat, returning quietly to his chair in the corner. Javert glared with suspicion; didn't he jump into the river? Wasn't he supposed to be dead?

As if Valjean had read right through Javert's eyes, he said quietly, "You jumped. I couldn't watch you throw your life away after I had just saved it. I saved your life for a reason that night, Javert. Your life means something." His words felt like rocks upon Javert's shoulders. Javert acted as if he felt nothing; Valjean pretended not to notice.

"You can't be God to everyone. Who would've known…? Jean Valjean, a driver to a drive-by… a saint! Saint Jean! Saving lives and giving out money to whores and-"his angry rant was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing which shook the bed, his face turning a mahogany shade. Jean shook his head, exasperated, and walked out of the room with a clear intention of coming back. With Javert's suspicions confirmed, Jean came back into the room with a cup that looked like tea with a greenish tint to it.

"Here," Valjean offered Javert the steaming mug. "This should help the nausea and migraine."

"I don't need your mothering and smothering! And besides, I don't even have a-"

Suddenly, his head began to be beating itself inwardly and the light singed his whole body. Javert shook and gritted his teeth, an unapproved groan of pain escaping his lips. As if Valjean had used magic, the tea seemed suddenly appealing. Javert took the mug without any more questions.

"See you drink all of it now," Valjean stated, looking for some more wood to shove into the blazing fireplace. "It should also help get you some rest, and you need all of the rest you can get."

Javert nodded grudgingly, bringing the scalding liquid to his lips and burning his throat quite furiously. Javert moaned at the sensation, yet didn't stop; for he felt suddenly a sense of relief wash over his body.

Relaxation soon took over his body whole body, and he disappeared into the abyss once again.

Valjean was reviewing on his laptop a few critiques of _War and Peace _when Javert awoke next.

Javert's body was dubbed in sweat; he groaned and thrashed as if he was being attacked. Valjean immediately went straight to the icebox, finding the item he set out for, and pressed the first cool ice pack on Javert's abdomen, the next to rest on his forehead.

Valjean retrieved a glass of water, and very hurriedly returned to Javert's side, where the man awoke and desperately took the water without question. Valjean watched, feeling pity for the man as he drained the glass in a feverish attempt to stay cool.

"Would you like Tylenol? Anything at all?"

Javert grunted shaking his head. "Just NyQuil if you have it… please…" Javert tried to lie back down, whimpering silently and flipping the rather large comforter off of his warm body.

Javert felt hot and cold, clammy yet dry; it was the absolute worst feeling Javert had ever experienced. He rarely got sick due to a life of nothing except immune buildup in the police force, but when he happened to catch a bug, it was utter hell.

Valjean left the room in haste; he believed to have some NyQuil in the bathroom's mirror cabinet. Retrieving said medicine and walking back to the room, he heard his cell phone ring.

Valjean once again entered the bedroom, handing Javert the bottle and answering his cell phone. "Hello?"

"Dad! Hi!"

It was Cosette. "Oh, dearest me, hello my child! How are you?" he smiled; he rarely forgot, but since Cosette had been staying with Marius to help him recover from a bullet wound that had stopped him of living his normal life, she'd been staying with him and caring for him; driving his places, running his errands, taking him to physical therapy. Normal things a fiancé did for the spouse. From the start of her stay, she called him every Tuesday to check up on him; make sure he wasn't dead.

"Well, I've been thinking maybe we could all go out for coffee today? Lunch on me?"

Valjean smiled sadly; outings with his daughter and future son-in-law were quite frequent, and they had always been rather enjoyable. "I'm sorry, Cosette, but I've been delayed today. I'm… I have business to attend to here at home." He said with a sad smile.

"Oh. Well. That's okay. We can do it later this week then."

"However," Valjean replied quickly before she had to go, "I would like some coffee from the store and chicken broth. A loaf of bread would do nice. Could you do that for me? My cars outta gas and I'm delayed from leaving the house until further notice."

Javert watched with intense eyes after swallowing the medicine; his conversation with his daughter seemed so natural, like it happened all the time. Valjean hung up the phone when Cosette had agreed to bring him groceries. Valjean quickly noticed the bluntly given glare that he was receiving and sighed heavily. "Yes, Javert?"

"What were you really in for?" Javert blurted out without thinking. "The records state that you were involved in a drive-by unknowingly, but Valjean, I can't believe that for a fucking second." A cough from Javert, regain of composure, and, "Tell me, what Jean Valjean did to put himself behind bars?"

Valjean sighed, plopping himself onto the chair and opening his laptop again. "Theft. Writing a few hot checks here and there and not paying my tickets. The files on me should also state that I was released on parole a few years early due to good behavior. Never once did the guards come across to find me making trouble." Valjean scowled in concentration at the computer. "Sleep. I'll be working for a few moments anyway, and Cosette will bring your dinner soon enough. Perhaps your fever will break and you can down some broth and bread."

Javert didn't object.


	2. Would've never guessed

"I hate your mothering. I'm not your kid."

Valjean's concentration was suddenly broken by the bedridden man a few feet away. "I'm not forcing you to stay. You may leave and die a humiliating death trying to get yourself all the way across Paris in the street. Your pride would be wounded, wouldn't you think? What people think of poor Javert then?"

Javert's glare could've burned straight through Valjean's thick skull.

Valjean chuckled throatily. "Would you like to take a walk? It's quite nice tonight. The forecast calls for light drizzle and warm temperatures."

"It's April." Javert replied in a humdrum tone.

"Yes… well, nice weather should always be enjoyed. Come." Valjean beckoned warmly, holding out his hand for Javert to promptly take. With a mocking, almost teasing glare, Javert complied with his role.

"Where shall we walk to?" Valjean prompted, suddenly excited. Pulling on his coat and putting his phone in his pocket, Javert pondered this question.

"To the bridge. And I do not want any interference from the likes of you." Javert replied curtly.

Valjean glared, rolling his eyes inwardly. "I think not. Is the park alright? I have some spare bread… maybe we could feed ducks."

When Valjean saw Javert's expression, he immediately disregarded that suggestion. "How about a bite to eat and a drink?" he offered.

Javert considered this offer for a short second and rose out of bed without any more questions. "Anything except broth sounds great to me."

XXX

They walked in silence on the way to Javert's favorite café. When they were finished there, the two hailed a cab to an address that Valjean did not recognize.

"Where is this place? And what did you say it was called?"

Javert rolled his eyes very obviously. "It's downtown, mother. And it's called Le trou béant."

"The gaping-"Valjean abruptly shut his mouth, his face reddening. "I had no idea you were… what?"

"Quite, my friend. In fact, I just left a relationship due to the fact that most gay men are whores who can't keep their mouths closed to any offer or dick away when they should."

Valjean nodded. "I've heard of the place, but never actually been. I am quite the étrange myself."

Javert scoffed. "How many have you had?"

"Three."

"Names?"

"Andre, Lyle, and Travaris."

"Like those French men, do we Valjean?"

"You would know. And I'd prefer you call me Jean."

"I've never dated a French man. I've never been in a car with one, going to a gay bar with one either, till now. There's always a first."


	3. Confessions Of Gay Alcoholics

By drink #3, Javert knew who he wanted to fuck that night.

Valjean was off elsewhere, talking to a very nice looking man, no older than 28, and my _god, _what an ass the boy had. Javert was currently dancing with an older man than Valjean had, although he couldn't quite remember his name. John or James? It didn't matter. What mattered was that his attention was elsewhere, resting on the way Jean Valjean sucked on the lemon on his beer, (because _damn, does he know what he's doing to me?)_ and the way his muscles bulge, waiting to be met by Javert's tongue.

What mattered was that he had his attention on a man he put in prison and not the man grinding on him.

His focus on Valjean was momentarily broken when said nameless man asked him if he wanted to get out of here. Javert laughed very sadly and walked away, not replying to the strangers question at all.

Valjean noticed this, and saw Javert hastily coming towards him. Only seconds later, his arm was yanked on and he was following Javert out of the club. In the next blinding seconds, he felt a strong pair of lips meet his.

Javert had him pinned to the wall, planting kisses on his lips, neck, and _dear god_, was he traveling downwards? Valjean couldn't tell, and was suddenly lost in ecstasy. He let a groan escape through his bare teeth as Javert pulled him into the alley next to the club, dark and quiet where no one would have the right mind to disturb.

Javert worked furiously at Valjean's jeans; why were they so tight? He felt Valjean clutch his hair and saw from his peripheral vision how Valjean threw his head back and gaped his mouth at the contact he was receiving.

Just as fast as it had began, Valjean snapped back to reality and flung as fast as he could away from Javert. On Javert's part, he had a very large and rather pouty snarl on his face.

"You are drunk." Valjean stated, a little breathless. He was on the other side of the alley, leaning into the wall for support.

"Sober enough to know who's dick I want to suck!" Javert protested, throwing a small fit in the middle of the alley.

"You hardly know me! You despise me!" Valjean spit back.

"I don't despise anybody, Valjean!"

"I have never let anyone in my pants so easily and I'm not going to treat you any different!" Valjean sat up from the wall and picked Javert up from his sitting position, throwing him over his shoulders and walking out of the alley and into the light again.

"WHA- PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!" Javert protested, kicking and shoving and squirming, but Valjean's monster grip was too strong for him. "I am a grown man and you are still babying me as if I was your child! PUT ME DOWN!"

Valjean silenced him by promptly dropping him on his ass.

The inspector howled in pain, not wanting to get up because of the growing amount of pain in his bottom.

"You want to be treated as if you're an adult? Act like one. When you fell off of that bridge, I risked my life to save yours. And for what? This? I am a middle aged, single man, who has paid for his crimes from the past. I now run a stable life, and have raised a daughter who is now going to school to become a biologist and is getting married in the fall to a wonderful man. I'm sure you're a very respectable man as well, Javert, but the way you are treating me is completely unnecessary and quite rude. You forget that I care about the people I help. I don't jump off of bridges for just anybody. Also, I am not your average slut who can take a one night stand; I love men, and I only have sex with the men I love. I'm not looking for a one time deal. I'm looking for a forever deal. You can't take advantage of my drunkenness and my virginity."

Javert took a sudden interest in the ground.

A few minutes of silence passed, and Javert sulked to the curb to sit. Valjean joined him and offered his hand to the man next to him. "I understand what you mean, Valjean. I'm sorry." He said softly, taking his hand in his and lacing their fingers together.

Valjean laughed lightly. "Well… it doesn't much matter now."

They sat in more comfortable silence, until Javert broke the silence again.

"What, or rather, who made you gay? Was it prison?" When Javert saw Valjean's eyebrow shoot up in a questioning glare, he corrected himself. "I mean, what made you realize you were gay?"

"Ah, that's better," Valjean nodded. "Anyway, no. Prison had nothing to do with my realization of my queer nature. It was Cosette." When Valjean saw Javert's questioning expression paling and sudden false understanding plaster on his face, he too corrected himself. "No- that's not- I mean-"he sighed. "Cosette and I were in the mall one day. We were clothes shopping and she was gawking over some man in an advertisement for her favorite store, describing how I would never understand how amazingly HOT his body was, and it was a girl thing. That's when I realized that it was my thing… because that man was very lovely. A few weeks later, she asked me if I would ever marry, and I told her no. She asked "Well why not?" and I told her of my suspicions. She giggled and her face reddened severely, but she's approved of my nature ever since."

Javert nodded, a short smile coming onto his face. "I wish my son did what your daughter had done."

Valjean gaped in awe. "You have a child?!"

"Not exactly," Javert started to explain. "My sister died two days after her son was born. His father was a dud who wouldn't ever make anything of his life. I requested custody of the babe and boom! I was a daddy. His name is Enjorlas. When I came out of the closet to him, he laughed and agreed. Now we rate men together and catcall. He gets more ass than I do, believe me."

"Why was he not at the hospital when you jumped? Wouldn't he be worried sick?"

"As a police inspector, I get injured quite often. This isn't his first rodeo; he lives in God knows where Europe right now with his boyfriend. I forget said boyfriends name, but Enjorlas seems to really be serious about him. He gets the "Your-Dad-Is-On-His-Deathbed" call constantly. Falling off of a bridge is not the worst thing that's happened to me. Had he even received a call, and heard that I was rescued, he wouldn't mind too much. He might send a bundle of chrysanthemums. We talk often, though. I love him as if he really is my child and I would expect him to love me as if I was his father as well. Its an unsaid mutual agreement."

Valjean nodded, playing with the knuckles of Javert's hand. He kissed them gently, making Javert shudder.

"Come. You seem cold. I think it's time we sleep."


	4. In The Comfort Zone

Javert awoke the next morning under a pair of strong arms.

It was warm there… with Jean, sharing his bed. While one of his sledge-hammer arms wrapped around his waist, the other cupped the man under him and held him close to his broad and _very bare _chest. He sighed in contentment, turning over to face Jean. He inhaled deeply; the man smelt of soap and linen, with a touch of aftershave. Javert wasn't surprised.

The light outside was blinding and made Javert's head throb. He groaned a touch louder than he meant to, which stirred Jean from his restful slumber. His headache was greeted with a smile, a grumble of "Gimmie a minute." From Jean, a cold body for a few minutes, and then a pill with orange juice to accompany it.

After Javert downed the pill, he laid face down back into the pillow. "Do you get drunk often?"

"Nah. Not as often as I used to." He replied, laying back down and taking Javert in his arms once again. The two men snuggled together, enjoying the precious moment. Alas, only a moment it was, for then the doorbell rang and Jean's eyes widened in terror.

"Cosette. She's supposed to come today!" Jean jumped out of bed as fast as he could, rummaging for a couple of t shirts and throwing one to Javert. "Hurry! To the living room!" he said, running into the closed door on his now clothed back while putting on a pair of Columbian blue gym shorts.

The doorbell again, and a knock to accompany it. "Dad? Are you alright in there?" was the muffled honeysuckle voice that came from the other side of the door. Javert huffed and got up from the bed, taking a pillow with him and trudging over to Jean's oversized couch, sitting down with the pillow behind his head.

Jean slicked his hair to perfection and promptly opened the door to reveal Cosette, standing in all of her wonderful glory. The two greeted and hugged, then Jean introduced the two.

"Cosette, this is Javert. He was rather sick the past couple of days and had no caretaker, so he has been with me for the time being. We've been friends for a very long time. Javert, you've heard of Cosette before."

"Hello, Javert." Cosette shook Javert's hand with a soft, knowing smile on her lips. "I am sure we will get along fine."

"I am sure of this as well." He gave her the same smile, feeling much more comfortable under her accepting gaze.

"Yes, my father and I are always close. It would be a pleasure to make nice grounds with my fathers," she giggled and blushed, looking between the two of them "very good friend."

Jean paled and Javert laughed lightly, watching Jean shuffle around the house making breakfast. Javert went for the phone in his pocket to read a quick chapter on his favorite story to let the two talk.

When Cosette finally made her goodbye, the rest of the day was long and very happy. Jean and Javert spent most of their time talking and cuddling on the couch, telling stories of Cosette when she was young and talking on the years missed.

"What were your previous boyfriends like?" Javert asked as Jean sat down with two glasses of iced tea and turning on the telly.

"Well…" Jean began carefully. "Andre was not much. He was a previously married man with children of his own who despised me because he spoiled the kids; being with me kept him from doing so. He drank a lot, and once I caught him involved in drugs. We got him rehab and I supported him every step of the way, but it was too much. He broke things off with me due to the fact that I wouldn't expose my teenage daughter to that sort of wrongdoing. I'm telling you right now that she'd think me a hypocrite had I stayed with him."

"Did you love him?"

"No… I don't think so. I immensely cared for him, yes. But… love? No."

"What about Lyle? Tell me about him?"

Jean's deep grimace turned into a gleaming, faraway smile. "Lyle was a perfect man… an angel, he was. He was beautiful, and everyone knew it but him. We were together for four years..."

Javert's mouth was agape in surprise. "You were with the man for four years and you two never had your way with the other?"

"Oh, we did some things to each other that got us through the sexual tension buildup… but he never took me, nor I him. I left him because he did not love me… how could he? I saw the way he looked at one other man. It was not the friendship way… no. He was immensely in love with that man and I left him because I wanted him to be happy. Turns out he is now married to said man and adopting his fifth child. I am glad for him."

Javert nodded solemnly, understanding Jean's reason to let go and still be happy. "And the other?"

Javert literally saw Jean's face darken. "Let us not talk about that one. He hurt Cosette and I very severely and I don't think his name being said in this house would help anyone."

Javert nodded in understanding. "I can proudly say that I can count the boyfriends I've had past high school on my fingers because I've only had one. Only lovers aside from everyone else."

"Why is that?" Jean inquired.

"No time, I suppose. I am resigning from the force in a few days, so I won't be as busy as I used to be."

"Why are you doing that?" Jean's eyes were wide in surprise.

"Because I want time to settle down. Preferably with you."

He did not mistake Jean's blush for anything else; Jean smiled, kissed his forehead, and stretched out on the couch to lie down, pulling Javert with him. The two cuddled while watching a very interesting game show before they slowly drifted off into sleep.


	5. The Not-So-Comfort-Zone

_**Enjolras and Grantaire **_

_"I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn; his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes - and the stars through his soul. -Victor Hugo_

Javert awoke to the smell of coffee and some sort of dish being made.

The radio was playing soft classical music that Javert couldn't quite comprehend, while Jean was cooking his way through the kitchen, whistling a tune and drinking from his mug here and there. The table, Javert noticed, was set for six.

"Who is coming over?" Javert promptly asked, getting up from his spot on the couch to see exactly what Jean was doing.

Jean laughed nervously. "Well, I woke up before you did and your mobile was ringing. I noticed it said "Enjolras" and I, naturally, answered to politely tell him you were sleeping. He was very flustered, and was worried. I told him that you've been in good hands for the past few days with me, and he said he was in town-"

"You didn't." Javert said emotionless.

"What choice did I have? I couldn't simply tell him "No". How rude do you take me for?"

"Is his boyfriend with him?"

"Yes. His name is Grantaire." Jean confirmed, opening a can of Prego sauce.

"And the other extra two plates?" Javert eyed them suspiciously.

"Cosette and Marius. Marius apparently used to be high school buddies with your son and his boyfriend."

"So. Correct me if I am wrong, but Enjolras and his boyfriend, your kid and her fiancé, and us two are all having diner together?"

"Precisely!" Jean said, a little more excited than Javert would have liked. "Would you like-" he started to say, but Javert was already gone; in the bathroom, it sounded like, showering.

XXXX

Javert fidgeted nervously in his seat, fiddling with the fork and that God awfully interesting spaghetti noodle. While everyone was engaged in a very intriguing conversation about politics and God, Javert was sulking and trying to avoid conversation. Every so often, he'd look up and see Enjolras smile brightly because of the man next to him holding his hand, or he'd look down to meet Jean's hand under the table. Every now and then, throughout the meal, Cosette would address Javert about his work, his political views, his views on the LGBT community, etc. Most of the time, Enjolras answered for him, giving a wink.

"So, old bloke," Enjolras started, breaking Javert from his concentration on the plate in front of him. "What'd ya do to hurt yourself this time?"

Javert chuckled stupidly. "Fell off of a bridge…" he blushed, feeling ashamed.

Enjolras was taken aback. "That ones new! And this man, Jean Valjean," he gestured to the man next to him. The hand entwined in his suddenly felt very heavy. "Saved your life?"

"That is correct." Javert and Jean replied at the same time.

"You didn't tell me you had a new boyfriend, dad. Aren't you too old to keep secrets?" This made most of the table giggle, aside from Javert, who just smiled politely.

"Just as you're too much like me to not be able to keep secrets for long. For God's sake, I didn't even know this gentleman's name until earlier today!"

That remark made Enjolras pale and Grantaire pull a little back. Javert noticed this, and immediately corrected him. "No, Grantaire, I knew of you from the beginning, I'm just bad with names, I assure you." Javert gave a polite smile. "You don't talk much! Tell me about yourself!"

Grantaire, he noticed, loosened up a bit and smiled nervously. "I'm from England. I met Enjolras in university in London… what class, art history?" They both chuckled fondly, entwining their fingers. "Anyway… it works, I guess. I work in the arts and hope to be an art distributor."

Javert nodded approvingly. "They make a shit ton of money, I'm telling you boy. They make more money in a month than I do in a week!" This made everyone at the table laugh, and while everyone talked about their jobs at the table, Javert and Jean started to clean up the kitchen and such.

Soon the night was over; Enjolras and Grantaire stated they were to be in town for a few days to spend extra time with Javert. Cosette and Marius said their good-byes and went home hastily.

By the time Jean closed the door and they were alone at last, he felt himself up against the same door with a strong pair of lips on his.

The kiss was gentle; nothing like the first one. Not chaste, not full of lust; gentle. He felt Javert's tongue prod at his own lips and obediently parted them, a groan escaping his throat when he tasted the sweetness of Javert's mouth. Sweeter than strawberry wine, yet bearable, he deepened the kiss, pulling Javert into an embrace.

The two broke apart for a moment for air. "I love you."

Jean was not sure who said it, but it didn't matter. "I love you, too…" he replied breathlessly, making certain it was Javert who said so. What did it matter if he said it twice, anyway?/


	6. Fever

_**Ch 6- Fever**_

The kisses turned hot and breathtaking as Jean guided them to his bedroom, still lip locked and giggling childishly when they ran into things.

He pulled Jean close to his face; he could smell the hints of musk, desire and a certain kind of soap. The stubble on Jean's face clawed at his cheeks, making him want to feel Jean everywhere even more. They moved backwards until Javert got too hasty and bumped his shin on a nearby edge of a dresser in his room.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed a little breathless, smiling all the same. Jean smiled and brought him back to his face, kissing him more feverishly than before. Only did Javert realize that he was being laid back on a bed when he hit the soft sheets. He moaned in delight, for the bed was much more comfortable than standing. Jean brought his injured leg up to his face and he kissed the spot that hit the dresser, tongue sliding out like velvet. Javert inhaled deeply at the sight of Jean kissing and sucking his leg, and had to bite back a moan when Jean kissed up his leg in the same manner.

Jean stopped at his aching groin and planted a kiss before pulling his jeans in a downward motion, causing them to slip from the other man's hips, releasing his erection.

Javert watched as he kissed the tip of his cock, and moved on up to remove his shirt. Javert pulled the offending article over his head and removed the rest of his pants before the tides took a change and he flipped the two of them over promptly so he was straddling Jean's hips. His eyes widened in surprise under him, and from surprise his look became wolfish and hungry. Javert bend for another kiss; he could practically taste the lust in Jean's mouth. He began to work on the buttons of Jean's pants before promptly giving up due to the fact he was shaking so much. Jean groaned impatiently and quickly took off the uncooperative article of clothing.

Javert straddled Jean once again, bringing him to sit up by pulling his face close for more feverish kisses. Jean moaned deeply in the back of his throat and pulled him close, holding his sides and his back tightly.

Javert broke for air for a moment before asking, "Do you have anything?"

Jean considered this for a moment before gently beckoning Javert off of him and reaching into his nightstand, pulling out a box of condoms and lube. "This will do?"

"I thought you were a virgin?" He questioned, taking the box and lube from his hands and diligently inspecting them.

"I am. I keep those there in case I fall in love with someone within an hour."

"Ah." Javert smiled brightly, kissing him again and removing his shirt. "Have you?" he whispered in his ear, breathlessly, making Jean shudder quite violently.

"Let me show you…" Jean lay back, pulling Javert with him so that Javert was hovering over his naked body. The room had been hot for some time, and he had taken the time to then realize how slick with sweat both of their bodies were. Kissing him again, he felt Javert straddle him.

"Agh, damn…" Javert was having difficulties, Jean noticed, and was squirming atop him, making it very hard to make Javert's problems easier. He thrust his hips upwards, causing Javert to moan loudly. Javert hurried, spreading lube across Jean's member. When Javert was finished and there was an adequate amount of lubrication on his cock, he sat on his hips, and allowed his cock to enter him.

Jean howled loudly as the warm, tight heat engulfed him. No sensation, nothing was quite like this, nothing as delicious, nothing as hot, and nothing as blissful.

Javert's discomfort was evident; he grunted uncomfortably and shifted abruptly. Soon, the pain subsided and he, very slowly, began rocking and bouncing atop of Jean's cock.

Jean's eyes fluttered and his mouth hung open, breathing hard and light at the same time. He thrust up just as he had done earlier, more heat engulfing him and making Javert moan and writhe over him. Jean smiled and groaned as Javert started bouncing faster atop his cock. Javert shifted very slightly, until he bounced once and suddenly twitched and moaned sweetly in ecstasy. Jean felt himself hit a tender spot in the other man's prostate and clutched the headboard above him, moaning and groaning incoherent words as Javert continued moaning atop of him.

Jean took one of his hands off of the headboard and went straight for Javert's bobbing cock, which he guessed wanted some attention. The flush heat twitched under his touch and Javert saw the stars as he came in very few swift but firm strokes to his cock. The idea of Javert being pushed into ecstasy by his own hand drove him over the edge, and he came, shouting Javert's name.

The younger man stopped rocking, and both caught their breath for a moment before smiling brightly at each other. They kissed and Javert peeled himself off of Jean, crawling into his embrace. Jean didn't bother cleaning the two off; it could wait until morning.

Before Jean comfortably drifted off into slumber, he heard Javert whisper, "I love you, Jean Valjean…"

He smiled into the man's hair. "I love you… what is your first name?"

There was a long pause before he heard a quiet and shy, "Luc."

"I love you, Luc Javert…" and then Jean drifted off into deep sleep.

When Jean woke in the morning, he was alone.


End file.
